Cancerously
by Daemon Wings
Summary: Minor Spoilers. - "Rocketman," Donny said again. "Not now, Donny," I told him, and continued my conversation with Tiara. "Jimmie! It's Nicole!" Donny shouted. "Nikki?" I asked. "She's really sick, man!" :Told from alternating POV, Rocketman/OC:
1. Caught Looking for Alaska

**A.N: **_Hey guys. I'm sorry it's taken me forever to update ANYTHING, but I've been busy with school, drumline, meeting John Green, and other stuff, as well as my computer breaking and debating my parents untill they let me get the tablet, and here I am. so no, Daemon isn't dead._

_I saw the movie like, Thursday, and wrote this during school Friday, while it's still fresh in my brain. The movie actually wasn't as cheezy as I'd thought it would be, and so I'm writing for HSM. Wow. I'm sorry guys._

_I'm suprised at how fast people started reading this. I already have a review? This has only been up like, an hour! That's awesome. DFTBA, my awesome reviewer. I love you._

_The title is a shortened version of "Love Me Cancerously", which I didn't use because that's a song title and the story has nothing to do with the song. It has to do with the fact cancer spreads quick and is a bitch to get rid of (pardon my French, little kiddies). And that's kind of the way things turn out in this; There's something forming that spread quick and the people involved can never get rid of it. Also, it may (it's mentioned in the summary, man) be taken literally, and someone may actually get diagnosed with cancer. You never know. It may all be a clever ploy to gt you to read my story. -shrugs-_

_So, here's _Cancerously, _my first HSM fic. Note that anything you recognise doesn't belong to me. Also, the song mentioned is titled "Looking for Alaska", and the song IS written by Liane Ghram (but I think I mispelled her name) who can be found at /lianeandthemusic and /lianeandthemusic or /fiveawesomegirls. She's Friday. The Ning is a reference to , not owned by me but instead owned by Hank Green who I met and got a highfive from and I made him break his guitar. I'm sorry, Hank. The song lyrics on Nikki's jeans are from a song called "Book Eight" by Hank Green, and the mentioned lyric is: "and I want JK Rowling to say that/The epiloge was crap, cause we all know it was crap and" and "I know alot of people want to hear the tale/Of the mysterious veil/I really do think its a dimensional portal/and I think Sirius is in Middle Earth". So yeah. I own none of that. However, in chapters to come I will have songs I actually wrote, which can be found (I warn you, with bad singing and sound quality) at /semiandhearts._

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rocketman

"Mr. Zara!" the algebra teacher shouted after me. I stopped, turning slowly, knowing Mr. Calin would have a detention for me. "Running through the halls _again,_ Mr. Zara?" he asked, taking out the pink paper. "AND a tardy?"

"Aw, c'mon!" I groaned, this hot blonde chick walking by. "What about her?" I asked, gesturing in her direction. Then it clicked in my brain that this chick was pretty damn fine. "Hey," I called after her, but she'd turned into the Drama room.

"Mr. Zara, Miss Evans has an _excuse,_ something you like to make up. She was in the theatre with Miss Neilson arranging the music for the spring musical. Now…" he told me. Evans? Like, _Sharpay _Evans? Oh god.

Another girl came strolling down the hall, hands in the pockets of white skinny jeans (on which she has Sharpied lyrics involving Harry Potter. Something about Sirius being in Middle Earth and the epilouge being crap), drumsticks in her back pockets, and a black button up shirt over a purple Jack's Mannequin tee. She had light brown hair under her hat (I'm still amazed this school is so loose on dress code), strands left down to frame her face and cover her left icy blue-green eye. And she didn't even care that she was so late and that teachers were swarming the halls. Sounds like my kind of girl.

"Miss? Miss!" Mr. Calin shouted. She turned to face him, but continued down the hallway backwards.

"Yeah?" There was a light Australian air to her voice, but I may have just been around Tiara too much.

"Where are you supposed to be?"

"Like I know?"she replied, shrugging.

"Well, do you have a pass?"

"You see one on these skinnies?" she asked, gesturing to her legs. I tried not to laugh.

"What's your name, Miss?" Mr. Calin asked, his face getting purple from frustration.

"Nicole Carson," she said, stopping for a bow. "See you in band, Rocketman!" she shouted to me, gave a quick salute, then walked down the stairs.

Band? How'd she know I was in band? And oh my god. Nicole Carson knew my name.

* * *

nikki

"What's your name, Miss?" the math teacher dude asked. I debated whether to give him a fake name, but then I blurted out my real one.

"Nicole Carson," I said, with a little courtsey. Coming up, I noticed who the brunette kid getting the detention was. Jimmie. As in, Jimmie Zara. As in, the Rocketman Zara. Like, the Rocketman that made the winning shot at the championship game last night. "See you in band, Rocketman," I toldd him, saluting, and then walked down the stairs.

Now, I'd never admit it, but I was a HUGE theatre geek. That's why last year I skipped P.E. all year and sat in on Ms. Sikma's drama class. And that's why I straight walked out of Mrs. Rivera's science class and headed straight for the theatre. I sat on the stage and just waited. I had no idea what I was waiting for, just that it wasn't coming soon enough.

Looking around, I saw that backstage there was an acoustic guitar leaning against the piano. Standing, I walked back and grabbed it, then brought it back out to Down Center Stage and sat again. It was a bit big, and really out of tune, but within five minutes I had it to a nice E, and then started playing around with some stuff.

I played an a minor, then switched to F, to C, to G, and held the progression. I just watched the second fret of the neck, just watching it was I played. Watching the strings get concealed by my fingers, watching my black fingernails make the chords. Then I started singing the words.

"I hope you're somewhere warm and white, like the flowers in your car…" I started, feeling the tears in my eyes. I loved the song, and the book it was based on. But the book made me cry. And so did the song. "But you've escaped this labrynth of suffering, wherever you are... I have a piece of you, tucked away deep inside my mind, memories of your poetry, and drinking your cheap wine…" The tears started rolling down my face, and I could hear my voice quiver.

"That's amazing," I heard someone say. They started walking down the aisle. I immideatly stopped strumming and acted as if I had never been playing. "Did you write that?" the girl asked me.

"Er, no," I replied hesitantly. I hated admitting I played guitar. It was a little cliched, and I was no Wizard Rocker. So I never filmed any of the songs I learned or wrote, and I never told anyone on the Ning. And here some girl at school had caught me. "Liane Ghram did."

"Well, Liane's amazing. I'm Kelsi, by the way," she said.

"Nikki," I replied.

"And you can call me the Rocketman," I heard from the back row, and looking up I saw Jimmie Zara standing on the arms of a chair by the east door.

Oh god.

* * *

Well, I hoped you liked it, and more chapters are to come! Love, Daemon


	2. My Theatre

Rocketman

I bolted down the hallway, not caring about Mr. Calin, or math, or detention. All I cared about was finding out where Nicole was going. There was just something about her, how much she seemed to know about me when I knew nothing about her, maybe, that made me unable to let her go.

I saw her turn towards the theatre. "Nicole!" I shouted after her. "Nikki!" I tried again, but she'd gone inside. I followed her into the theatre and sat in a seat close to the door. After a few minutes, she headed backstage and came out with a guitar.

Sweet! I knew one more thing about her. She was in band, and she played guitar. I'd be on look-out for what she played next period.

I recognized her chord progression pretty easily; A minor, F, C, and G. It was actually rather neat. The sound was melancholy, way too melancholy for G and F. And the slower tempo made it really relaxed and really sad. And then she sang.

"I hope you're somewhere warm and white, like the flowers in your car, but you've escaped this labyrinth of suffering, wherever you are…"

And then I noticed it. She was _crying._ Her eyes had gotten glassy by the second line, but now the tears had really started to form.

"I have a piece of you," she sang, the tears choking up her throat. I could her it in her voice, the way it quivered, the way her breathing was audible. "Tucked away deep inside my mind, memorized of your poetry, and drinking your cheap wine…" she sang, the tears finally rolling down her cheeks.

"That was amazing," a girl said, walking down the aisle. I think she was a senior, but I can't remember. "Did you write it?" she asked. Nicole looked really nervous. It was almost like she didn't want anyone to know she played guitar, which was weird because who learns to play guitar, of all instruments, and doesn't want anyone to know? And why hide it when you play that well?

"Er, no. Liane Ghram did," Nicole replied.

"Well," the girl said, smiling. "Liane's amazing. I'm Kelsi, by the way."

"Nikki," Nicole replied. That was it. My golden opportunity. I stood up on the arms of the chair and said it, loud and clear, smile on my face.

"And you can call me the Rocketman."

She got that look that let's everyone know you're thinking 'Oh god." And then she screamed, "Jimmie Zara!" I knew she was only looking angry to cover her shock and/or humiliation. There's a difference. "What are you doing here?"

"Embarrassing you," I replied, walking down the aisle to the stage. "Am I right?"

"Yeah, actually, Rocketman. You're a little embarrassing. You're a dork, and pathetic, and you can't hold a marimba mallet right," she said, and then I realized. She was the percussionist playing high octave marimba in the band. I was on low. I looked to my hands, then back to her. "You obsess over Troy freaking Bolton WAAAAY too much. Get your own LIFE, Rocketman, instead of trying to live someone else's!" she shouted. I had been smirking kind of until she had said this. I froze, trying to hide how bad that stung. How precise Nikki had targeted me.

"Nikki," I started, not knowing where I was trying to go. Luckily, Nicole took over.

"Get out," she said, calm as ever. She didn't even blink. She just pointed to the door. "Get out, Rocketman."

"Nikki!" I tried again, but she wouldn't listen to me.

Nikki was just staring at me, pointing at the door. "Get OUT of my THEATRE!"

nikki

Jimmie looked as if he wasn't even breathing. I had torn him apart, shown him the things he didn't even want to know about himself, hadn't I? How could I? Just because he'd seen me play a stupid _guitar?_ Maybe that's why I'm afraid to show my talent. Because all music seems to bring is either the wrong kind of closure, or drama.

"Nikki," Jimmie started, but I wouldn't let him. I didn't want to have to feel the way he felt right now. I didn't want things to be fair. I wanted things to be easy.

"Get out," I muttered. I pointed to the door, trying not to cry. "Get out, Rocketman."

"Nikki!" Jimmie tried again, sounding desperate, exasperated, like he was a homeless guy asking for a little bit of my lunch. I couldn't take it. His tone, the way he was staring me down, the things I had said, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Get OUT of my THEATRE!" I shouted. Jimmie just stared me right back, matching my gaze, as if he was trying to break me before I broke him. But I'd been broken for a long time. And the scars and burns on me proved it. Finally, he broke the silence in the theatre.

He seemed to be dictating his own movements, which was kind of weird, but he turned and took a rather large step, said, "Took one big step then I walked away." And sure enogh, the Rocketman started walking down the aisle. "Then I thought of all the things that I wanted to say, I'm always too late, you never got your story straight, I'm always up late, I think I'm everything you hate." Then he turned slightly.

I swear. If looks could kill… But then he shoved open the auditorium doors and walked into the hallway.

"I feel so awkward," Kelsi piped up. I agreed silently. "Sorry, I just came back to pick up my manuscripts. See you later?"she asked. I nodded. "Stop by Free Period, Mrs. Darbus is looking for a few more people for the Spring Musical."

Spring Musical? Huh. Maybe I would stop by.

"Show her that song of Liane's and you're a shoo-in, Nikki. Break a leg!"  
Kelsi called over her shoulder, walking towards the door. Soon she was gone, as well, and I was left all alone on the stage, just me and a stupid freaking guitar that lost me my secrecy, my dignity, and the attention of the boy I'd been watching since sixth grade.

"So many things I had wanted to say, and all the ways I could have never said it," I started singing, having no idea what I was doing, or where this was coming from. I just nodded my head to a medium four-four tempo and kept going. "and I was hiding, sure, and I was fighting it all these years, that maybe there was something more, that maybe there could be something there, I'm so unaware…" The last bit just flew out of me once I got it started. I couldn't belive how long I'd tried to convince myself otherwise. How long I tried, how hard I tried to fight the idea, but now there was nowhere left to run.

Nowhere to hid the idea that I was inevitably in love with Jimmie Zara.

I mean, if you think about it, it's kind of obvious. Well, _something's_ obvious. But I don't know what it is. Is it obvious I like him? Obvious he likes me? Obvious he _doesn't_ like me? Obvious he has the personality of a piece of toast and we are totally devoid of any chemistry? Obvious I totally stole that line from a DeviantArt comic about Bella and Edward from Twilight?

It's running through my head, Rocketman, all these questions, the lack of answers, all the ways I'll never know what's hidden behind your brown-hazel eyes, all the waysI keep just embarrassing myself, Rocketman. All the ways I keep _hating_ myself.

"All the ways I could kill myself."


	3. Beauty in the Breakdown

**A.N.: **___It was not intended from the get-go that I would use a song in this chapter, much less the song used. Jimmie's epiphany about the song are my own. That's why he's very out of character in this scene. And so cheesy. And fluffy. And unbearable adorable. And perfect, almost. Sorry._

_No owning of HSM here. Nor the owning of the song Beauty in the Breakdown by the Scene Aesthetic._

rocketman

I had shot her a glare I hoped would convey the message running through my head: "You're completely wrong about me, and I'm going to prove you wrong if it's the last thing I do." Then I turned back around and headed into the hallway.

I'd seen her cry. I'd seen her breakdown into _tears_ because of a _song_. A irrelevantly beautiful song. Sung by an irrelevantly beautiful girl. I'd seen Beauty in the breakdown. And as that thought crossed my mind, I realized just how well that song fit the moment. I had an idea. I looked to the theatre doors, seeing Kelsi leave, and then I walked back over. Nikki was all alone in the theatre. It'd be just her and me. No one else there to tell how I'd walked in and just burst into song. So I took a deep breath and walked inside, just in time to hear her singing again.

"So many things I had wanted to say, and all the ways I could have never said it," She started singing, having not playing the guitar along, just singing. She just nodded her head to a medium four-four tempo and kept going. "and I was hiding, sure, and I was fighting it all these years, that maybe there was something more, that maybe there could be something there, I'm so unaware…"

I couldn't bring myself to do it just yet. There was something about those lyrics. Something familiar. I guess because just five minutes ago I was trying to say something, anything. But then years. She'd said years. How she have been singing about what just happened if she said years? We'd only known each other since this year, right?

I ran out of the theatre again, opening my locker and pulling out my middle school yearbooks.

Sixth grade class: Nicole Carson, blonde hair, layered and shoulder length.

Seventh grade class: Nicole Carson, mid back brown-black hair, red tipped bangs.

Eighth grade class: Nicole Carson, short, SHORT hair, black boy cut, blue, putple and white strands all mixed together in her jagged asymmetrical bangs.

Then this year, light brown hair, side-swept bangs, I had no idea how long. But no wonder I never recognized her; She was always changing.

Years. Years and years and years I'd gone to school with her, and never known her, never seen her. How could I have managed that? I didn't even care anymore. I knew that this was probably a completely incorrect and egomaniacal assumption, but that song was about _me,_ and I _related._ I _related_ to a song about Nikki's feelings for _me._

I felt the same way.

Running back to the auditorium, I slipped back in silently. She was crumpled on the stage, tears rolling down her cheeks again, just silently sitting there. And then she said ever so quietly, "All the ways I could kill myself."

"Come on, take a step towards me, so you can figure me out," I sang loudly, trying to snap her away from the thought. I didn't care that this was the most embossing thing I've _ever_ done. I just cared that this girl was thinking about _suicide_, and I was the only one around to hear her. "I've been hoping and praying for a single way, to show you what I'm all about. And I know, and I know this is the only way of pleasing the crowds, but when this is over and done with and we walk away, there should be no doubts…" I continued, watching Nikki look up with bloodshot eyes and a tearstained face. She smiled slightly when she recognized the song, and she started playing along.

"So let's get a little closer now, let's get a little closer now," we sang together. I was walking towards the stage, and she was sitting around on the edge of the stage. Now, I have no idea about music or pitch or harmony, but I think we sounded pretty damn good together. And from the smile on Nicole's face, I think she did too.

"You say, you say that we're all tied up, and wrapped around in, useless states of mind,

but at the same time we're still young, we have the time to realize that we were wrong," we sang, her playing a little more passionately, like she actually felt the lyrics, lived the song. Like I felt right now.

Like I felt when I reached the edge of the stage, leaned forward, and kissed her.

nikki

"Come on, take a step towards me, so you can figure me out," I heard Jimmie sing loudly. I recognized the song. Beauty in the Breakdown. I gasped at the irony, how I had just _had_ a breakdown, and here comes charging the source singing Beauty in the Breakdown. "I've been hoping and praying for a single way, to show you what I'm all about. And I know, and I know this is the only way of pleasing the crowds, but when this is over and done with and we walk away, there should be no doubts…" he continued singing. I looked up and watched him walk down the aisle singing this song I loved.

I got an idea, and smiled. Picking up the guitar, I played the chords of the song as we sang the chorus together. "So let's get a little closer now, let's get a little closer now." We actually sounded pretty good together. Harmonized rather well. I started playing a bit more into the song, strumming harder, dancing as well as I could, trying not to laugh as my smile stretched farther on my face.

"You say, you say that we're all tied up, and wrapped around in, useless states of mind,

but at the same time we're still young, we have the time to realize that we were wrong," we sang, and I noticed how close to the stage Jimmie had gotten over the course of the verse and chorus. There was a certain element in his smirk, like he had gotten me to feel something, like he'd gotten me to think like him. Something that made him feel more accomplished, I think. The only thing that had changed, though, was I had seen how Beauty in the Breakdown related so well to my life this particular day.

I had started thinking of my life as a soundtrack. Beauty in the Breakdown was my day today. What band brought tomorrow's song? I was living music now. It felt so weird, but so right. I started to wonder why I hadn't lived like this sooner. It was fun.

But then all thought processes stopped because I felt Jimmie's lips on mine. He was kissing me, right there in the middle of fourth period, right before band, on the stage in the auditorium, after I'd said I might be thinking about ways to kill myself.

Why, again, was I going to kill myself? I couldn't seem to recall any details about anything anymore. I knew I was sad. And I knew now I was confused and shocked but so meltingly complete that I would have burst into song if I had not been preoccupied kissing Jimmie Zara and had we not been singing a song before he kissed me.

That moment seemed to last a lifetime or longer, but in reality, our lips had probably only had contact for a little over a second. My heart was racing and I could barley breathe, and I knew that probably only the part of my brain that remembered that cigarettes are made of rat toes and stale herbs coated in rodent pee and bird poo wasn't melted, but I managed to strum again. Smiling, Jimmie pulled himself up onto the stage and sat next to me, and we sang again.

"Come on love run with me," he sang, and I started into the erratic strumming pattern in which I almost broke the high E and D strings on this guitar. "Get the hell out of this town," he told me, looking right at me, smile on his face. I started singing along again. "So we can get a better feel for each other, I'll take you back to when you, remembered how you used to, just live your life a little for me. Take the time to let it go, step away and watch me grow."

Music is an amazing thing, isn't it? It's so fun to just sit down here all alone. Just me and the Rocketman, just playing someone's guitar and singing together, and laughing, and kissing, and melting together. It sounds so cheesy, but it's kind of…_magical._ Just the way it can bring together two people who never really met until Freshman year until they're so close it's impossible for them to be two separate people.

"So let's get a little closer now, let's get a little closer now. You say, you say that we're all tied up, and wrapped around in useless, states of mind, but at the same time we're still young. We have the time to realize that we were wrong," we sang together, smiling so broadly it hurt. "You can stay if you want to, and I write to you and tell you how you've always been so special to me," Jimmie sang, and I saw that it was more him singing it to me, that him reciting the lyric to me. "You can stay if you want to, and I'll try."

"You can stay if you want to, and I write to you and tell you how you've always been so special to me," I sang this time, knowing that the same was happening with me. I wasn't singing the lyrics to a song. I was singing what I thought (granted, in the words of the Scene Asesthetic) from my heart. "You can stay if you want to, and I'll try."

"To keep you close to me," he sang. "To keep you close to me," I sang. "To keep you close to me," we sang together.

I love that word. _Together._


	4. Little Kids Again

**AN:** _Yay pointless filler only used to lure readers into a false sense of "It's going to have a happy ending."_

_For those wondering, yes, the song "Looking for Alaska" had a point. And those who know the lyrics, Nikki has green eyes for a reason._

_No owning here. It's called FAN fiction for a reason. Use some common sense._

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rocketman

I woke up to a subtle beep from my computer, whose screen had purred to life, an IM on the screen. I checked my phone, recognizing the font as Nikki's. She'd only IM me if I never replied to her texts, Sure enough, there was four texts, spread out over an hour, asking where I was and what I was up to.

_Rocketman, where are you?!_

The screen asked me. I smirked and lazily typed back: _sleeping._

A few seconds later came her reply: Sleep is over-rated. C_ome on love, run with me. =]_

I stared at the screen, unable to think up a response to that. Then, after a half minute, she IMed me saying, _get the hell out of that house. And bring your guitar._

Now THAT I knew how to respond to. _The park?_

_Is there anywhere else we can go, Rocket?_

I smiled, knowing she didn't expect a reply. Grabbing my guitar case and slipping on a pair of Vans on which Nikki had colored rainbows, I didn't even care it was three in the morning. We had done this before, snuck out of our houses and gone to the park to play guitar together and talk and actually hang out. What with basketball practice and my grades, my parents weren't eager to let me date. So I just said Nikki was a really good friend and she was helping me in Science and math (not a lie) and they never thought any more of it.

Sliding open my window, I slid the guitar case ever so carefully onto the little awning roof, then slipped out myself. Closing the window, I let myself slide down to the rain gutter, then slowly lowered the guitar onto the patio table's umbrella, and then I jumped down. Grabbing the guitar, I ran down the driveway and cut through Mr. Grayson's yard, heading straight for the old park.

"Hey, Rocket," Nikki greeted me, staring at a lyric sheet in front of her and testing some chords. "How's it?"

"More dangerous," I replied, sitting beside her and taking out my own guitar. "The 'rents are talking about selling the patio table for a basketball hoop. I mean, that's awesome, but then I wouldn't be able to get here with all six strings attached." She laughed at this, and I smirked, tuning the strings to her E. Then I went through the intro to _Beauty in the Breakdown._

"How's rehearsals with Kelsi and Ryan?" I asked her. She had been asked by Ms. Darbus to help out in the composition of the Spring production. Nikki shrugged.

"Kels practically has every freaking instrument part written. There's nothing for me to do."

"Oh. I'm sorry," I replied.

She just smiled, giving another shrug, this one conveying "That's the way the cookie crumbles." I nodded in agreement. "So," Nikki broke the silence. She leaned in really close to me, and I thought we were going to kiss again, but instead she just tapped the tip of my nose and whispered, "Tag. You're it." I could feel her breath, warm against my face on the, let's face it, chilly morning. Then she stood and ran off to the swing set. Laughing, I chased after her.

"Nikki! Get back here!" I shouted, breaking into a full sprint, but she made a quick spin and headed back the other direction.

"That defeats the purpose of the game, Rocketman!" she replied, laughing. I caught up to her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her up off the ground, spinning her around and then set her back down. Nikki screamed out, laughing her head off. "Okay, okay, you caught me."

"Damn right I did," I told her, then spun her around to face me, kissing her softly and pulling her into a tight embrace.

---x---

nikki

I couldn't sleep. Not with what Dr. Bensen had called with earlier. It was three hours, four minutes, and 26 seconds into the morning, but of course I wasn't counting. I stared at the laptop screen on my desk across the room. Benen had called with my test results only… Five hours, fifty minutes ago. He called around 8:15 p.m., and now I can't sleep. I graoned, walking to the laptop and opening a new IM conversation with the Rocketman.

_HEY. GET UP. _ I messaged him. I let a few seconds go by before typing, _You aren't replying to my texts, Zara. Now where the hell are you?_

He replied four minutes later. _sleeping._

_Sleep is over-rated. Come on love, run with me. _I typed, pressing enter and staring at the screen. When he didn't reply, I told him, _get the hell out of that house. And bring your guitar._

He replied quickly this time: _the park?_

I smiled, trying not to laugh. My guitar already packed up, I typed to him, _Is there anywhere else we can go, Rocket? _I hit enter and crawled out the window onto the damp morning grass.

I walked to the park where Jimmie and I went almost every night. It was the only place we could really just be _together._ Without worrying about anyone walking in on us in the theatre, without worrying about being late to class, without his parents not letting him date and my parents thinking Rocket was a brain dead, compassionate-less, talentless hack. Without any of the "you're too young for love" crap. Love is love. It comes when it comes.

"Hey Rocket," I said, not looking up from my lyric sheet. I just couldn't put this to music. "How's it?" I asked him.

"Dangerous," he laughed. He sat beside me, taking his guitar out of it's case. "The 'rents are talking about selling the patio table for a basketball hoop. I mean, that's awesome, but then I wouldn't be able to get here with all six strings attached." I laughed, knowing he didn't mean for this to be funny_. _But it kind of was, in the way he said it. But I dunno. It's 3 AM. Maybe I'm just tired. He tuned to my E, and then idly played the intro of our song.

"How's rehearsals with Kelsi and Ryan?" He asked me out of nowhere. Ms. Darbus had asked me to help Kelsi and Ryan with the musical's composition, but I wasn't really needed. I shrugged.

"Kels practically has every freaking instrument part written. There's nothing for me to do."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Jimmie told me.

I smiled at how cute he was. Just the way he looked at me made me want to giggle. I tried hard not to laugh, shrugging again. _That's the way the cookie crumbles,_ I thought. He nodded, as if in agreement. "So," I said, breaking the silence. I leaned in really close to the Rocketman, and I think he thought we weregoing to kiss, but I had a different idea. Tapping the tip of his nose, I whispered, "Tag. You're it." Then I stood and ran off to the swing set. Laughing, Rocket chased after me.

"Nikki! Get back here!" he shouted, breaking into a full sprint, but I spun pretty quickly and ran back towards our guitars.

"That defeats the purpose of the game, Rocketman!" I shouted back to him, laughing. He did catch up to me, and he wrapped his arms around my waist. I'll admit, I screamed a bit, but then he lifted me off the ground, spun around in a circle, and set me back down. Laughing hard as ever, I whispered, "Okay, okay, you caught me."

"Damn right I did," Jimmie told me, then spun me around to face him, kissing me softly and pulling me into a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his shoulder.

I felt normal. I felt like I used to. I felt awesome, and I wasn't dizzy, or seeing double, or on the verge of throwing up.

I felt like I did before I was diagnosed with Brain Stem Glioma.

I felt like I did before I was diagnosed with cancer.


	5. Author's Note: Driving Me Forward

A.N.:: Okay, it's Daemon. I think I have some 'splainin' to do here, right?

So, my computer has been taken out of my possession for an undetermined amount of time, and I have been writing spurts of _Cancerously_ in EVERYTHING. In fact, in John Green's _An Abundance of Katherines_, on pages 47 and 48 I have quotes written. I am so sorry John, Hank, and the Nerdfighters, but I had no paper. At least it's in pencil?

I am writing filler, so the story isn't exactly moving along right now anyways. All that's happening is (yay) life lessons and (double yay) people uncovering the truth about inner feelings. No, Rocket isn't going to be gay, but Nikki is bisexual, so if you're obsessed with that, there you go. So right now, _Cancerously_ isn't exactly the most interesting story, but it's to help get across an idea revealed at the end of the story.

To make up for lack of updates, I'm adding an epilogue, but if you can't stand angst-y sadness then you probably shouldn't even read my filler. Just knowing how this ends, I start crying, which is good. That means that I wrote this well enough to become attached to the characters (even if some aren't exactly mine) and means that I did a good job on at least one project. But if you can't handle it, the only point of the filler is to get you sucked further into Nikki and Rocket's relationship. I'm not spoiling, I'm just warning. Besides, if you re-read what's going on VERY CAREFULLY you'll see what happens. I've left quite the rabbit trail to the ending.

So have fun, and please re-read, because you'll forget important details that currently seem very unimportant. And I don't want you guys forgetting about Nikki and Rocket over here. Thanks so much for all of you who reviewed, it's really driving me to try to finish this well, instead of skipping about four months in the timeline to get to more climax, haha. Those of you whose reviews are driving me forward, you are getting a special mention from me in the final chapter/epilogue.

Have fun, you guys.

Love, Daemon


	6. Futures

**A.N.: **_ new year everybody, we're in 2009! I'm going to be even more boring since I have a vlog project and I start high school later this year, so ehhh its going to be fun. Either way, I'm hating where I'm going with this. I'm going toward useless filler. Nikki and Rocket sing in park. Nikki and Rocket see a movie. Nikki and Rocket text during algebra. I want to get to the good part, where I can make everyone happy and stop the dual POV. _

_Oopsie. Did I just verify the theories of my ending? Whoops. Maybe-spoiler._

_Sorry for the late update. It's not easy to switch from concert band flute to marching band battery percussion. I've waited 4 years for this. Sorry it took so long to get everything set, but I'm back. Thanks for sticking with me._

bdbdbdbdbd

rocketman

"Hey, Rocketman!" Donny shouted at me. I turned just in time to grab the basketball flying towards me. "Get your head in the game!" he shouted at me. I threw the ball back to him. "What's with you, anyways? You're always really tired, and now you're obsessed with that song _Beauty in the Breakdown,_ and you've been spending a _lot_ of time in the Drama department, man!" Donny told me. I shrugged.

"I dunno. I just…" I started, thinking up and excuse. "My grandma died?" I tried, kind of sheepishly. We both laughed, knowing just what a load of crap that was.

"Wait a minute," Donny told me. "You never talk about girls anymore." I nodded, knowing it was true. I could feel my face getting hotter.

"Zara!" Coach Bolton shouted at me. "What's with the red face?" The whole team turned to look at me.

"Well, Rocket? What's going on with you?" Donny asked me, smirking slightly, reveling in my pain. He passed me the ball.

"Okay, you know that chick Nicole?" I asked Donny.

"Is she the chick with the brown hair up in the denim hat in our Art class?" he asked me. I nodded. "Yeah," he replied.

"Well, we're…kinda…maybe dating," I told him, getting quieter. I threw him the ball, and he just barely got hold of it, gaping at me.

"How did you manage that?" he asked me.

"_Beauty in the Breakdown,"_ I told him, smiling. "Come on love, run with me, get the hell out of this town, so we can get a better feel for each other, I'll take you back to when you remembered how you used to just live your life a little for me. Take the time to let it go, step away and watch me grow," I recited, and I heard Chad Danforth snicker slightly. I couldn't help myself, and it slipped out. "At least I just had to sing a little to get a date. I didn't have to stand on a lunch table and beg her."

I heard almost the entire team make little "ooh," and "oh!" noises, and I smirked a little to myself before Coach Bolton shouted us back into attention and we started up practice again.

Back in the locker room, Donny and I found our lockers empty. Looking to each other, we knew we were both thinking the same thing. "Dude," Donny said, "where are our clothes?"

"C'mon, boys!" Troy and Chad said, coming up from behind, our clothes in their hands. "It's moving day!" they said. I didn't think they were serious. I hadn't expected them to actually let us have their lockers. "But you know, you have to earn it," Troy warned us.

"Okay, fine," I said quickly.

"Sure," Donny added. "So what's the combination?"

"Yeah, what's the combination?"

"Like we said boys," Chad started to say, and the two slowly walked away backwards. Turning around and sprinting away, they shouted, "_You gotta earn them!_"

Donny and I looked to each other, groaned, and then chased after the seniors. The next thing we knew, they'd led us straight into the auditorium, where the Drama club was having a rehearsal. And Nikki was reading some of Kelsi's tablature, and Donny and I were in nothing but towels.

Oh God. Oh God, oh God.

"Yearbook opportunity!" Gabriella, Troy's girlfriend, shouted out. Taylor, at least I think that's her name, ran to Down Center Stage and took a picture of us. I made a mental note to kill her in her sleep.

Ms. Darbus walked over to me and Donny, obviously upset. I couldn't blame her. Trying to make the situation a little less awkward, I gave a simple, "Hey."

"As much as I agree the theatre is a great place to discover yourself," Ms. Darbus started, everyone laughing. "Here at East High we prefer you discover yourselves _fully clothed._" Everyone burst into an all out hysteria.

"They stole our clothes!" I tried to explain, but everyone was laughing too hard. All I could see of Nikki was she was covering her nose and mouth with her hands, eyes wide. From the way she was moving I think she was trying hard not to laugh. Donny and I walked over to Troy and Chad, who stopped their laughter right away, and grabbed our clothes.

My cell started vibrating in my pocket, though. I slowly pulled it out, and read the text. _I have a secret._

_What? _I texted Nicole back, and Donny and I ran to the locker rooms to change. Nikki never texted back. But the locker room phone did start ringing. Donny, already dressed, answered it.

"Hello?" he asked, pausing. I saw him look increasingly nervous, and he shot glances at me. "Um, he's kind of busy right now…" he told the phone. Another long pause. "Okay. I'll tell him." Then he hung up.

"Rocket, there's-" Donny tried to say, but I cut him off.

"Come on, dude. We gotta get back down to the theatre." With that he and I left and headed back to the auditorium. Donny headed off for the stage crew and grabbed his head-set. Apparently Ms. Darbus had assigned him to help out the crew.

And of course Tiara was there, why would I think she wouldn't be? Ms. Darbus told us later that, "since we'd become such dedicated presences", we were going to be understudies. She started going at me about how stupid I was, and how I knew nothing about theatre.

"Rocket man," Donny said, coming up behind me.

"Not now, Donny," I muttered, the continued my conversation with Tiara.

"Rocket…" Donny tired again. I ignored him. "Jimmie!" he shouted. I spun around to look at him. "It's about Nicole!"

"Nikki?" I asked him. He nodded. Tiara gave a groan, walking away to Sharpay.

"She's really sick, man!" he told me. "They have to pull her from school after free period. She knows about it, too. Said she wanted you with her, or something."

"She's sick? She doesn't look it…" I said, watching her play guitar, sitting cross-legged on top of Kelsi's piano.

"Jimmie?" Donny asked me. I looked to him again. "It's called 'cancer'."

I froze. Cancer? Cancer _killed_ people. _Killed_ them. Nikki had cancer? "No…" I whispered. "No, no… She just, she has… no…" I tried, but there was no where to go with the argument.

"All cast and crew on stage," Ms. Darbus announced. We all lined up together. "This show is about your futures. So what do you see in your future?" she asked us. Gabriella stepped forward.

"I want to stage the perfect prom."

Taylor McKessie said, "I'm going to be the President of the United States. After I finish college, of course."

"Harvard Pre-Med is calling my name!" someone announced.

"Basketball in Utah, all the way!" another kid said. Ms. Darbus looked to me.

"I…" I started, stepping forward. Taking a deep breath, and looking at Nikki, I changed my mind completely. "I want to be a doctor."

"A _doctor?_" Tiara asked. "You must be kidding. With your study habits? Like there's even a chance!" she teased.

I didn't mean to say it, but it just fell out. "Look, okay? My girlfriend has cancer. _Cancer._ And for God's sake, I'm gonna be the one to save her," I shouted back to her. Nikki just looked over to me, tears in her eyes. Not the, "How-could-you-tell-everyone-I-have-cancer" tears, but the, "I-can't-belive-you'd-do-that-for-me" tears. She stepped out of the line and walked to me, wrapping her arms around me in a hug I thought was impossible to let go of.

nikki

I never thought I'd ever see someone do something like that for me. His dream has always been fame and fortune. Basketball, guitar, it was always about getting famous and getting rich and living life like he'd always dreamed, in California or Florida, or anywhere but Albuquerque, New Mexico. We both knew there was nothing here for us. We both knew it, and yet he had changed that for me. To try and help _me._ And the best part was that he saw that I was not a statistic. That I wasn't cancer, I just _had _ it.

So I hugged him as tight as I could, like he was my cure. He was, actually. Rocket was the one person at East High that made me feel like I was a sophomore guitarist. Emily, and sometimes Kelsi, and Mrs. Darbus, and even Mrs. Rivera made me feel like I was Brainstem Glioma. And I didn't like feeling that way.

Hugging Rocket was pretty much all I could do, anyways. I couldn't kiss him because there were so many people and teachers around us, and I couldn't just smile at him because that obviously wasn't enough. And apparently my thought process believed that squeezing his spine in half was a perfect way to show my gratitude.

"Rocket…" I started, but I had nothing to say. Nothing I could say to him would ever tell him exactly how I felt. It was all too much to put into a phrase, or a paragraph, or anything.

"Nicole?" Ms. Darbus asked me. "Your future?"

I turned around, looking at all the people staring at me. Smiling, I answered her. "Music Theory at Byrn Mawr. New Jersey, that is. I wanna follow in Wizard Rock legend footsteps." Tiara rolled her eyes, and I did all I could to stop myself from flipping her off or punching her face in. I was getting really tired of her, you know.

"Okay, well, come on you all. These sets won't paint themselves," Ms. Darbus told us, waving her hands at us, pushing us to our brushes and wood frames. I grabbed the guitar I had leaned against the piano and went back into my scales, Kelsi composing. I saw Rocket grab a paint brush. He looked to me and winked, and then painted a big white streak of white in Tiara's hair. I smiled, trying not to laugh and clue her in, and went back to the music.

But I love that kid, I swear. I love Rocketman. I love the kid.

He makes me feel like a kid.


End file.
